


ENCORE

by angelicwerewolf



Category: Furry (Fandom), No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Cryptids, Furries, Not Beta Read, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy, Urban Legends, a combo between a red fox and arctic fox, actually thought they were being invaded? yeah, and a forest ranger, and some ppl (a small portion of them I think), basil is an albino white tailed deer, made up towns and forests and cryptids etc, mr. showtime is.. ???, that sort, these ocs were inspired off that one hecking, war of the worlds radio storyreading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26798638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicwerewolf/pseuds/angelicwerewolf
Summary: Basil’s a forest ranger, a forest ranger who lives in the small quaint town of Salt Trees, that also happens home to a lesser known cryptid known as The Lake Goat.Basil really doesn’t buy into the whole supernatural shtick though, so much so that when he befriends this cryptid and meets his equally cryptic owner, who happens to be the radio host of a show he just absolutely adores, he’s not quite sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing.
Kudos: 1





	ENCORE

**Author's Note:**

> hi yes I have a lot of ocs  
> enjoy!
> 
> anyways this probably reads a bit weird but I already rewrote it once and I am Tired. Wanna know Mr. Showtime’s voiceclaim? It’s Funtime Foxy’s voice. Do Not @ Me

The little beast seemed to know Basil’s schedule at his forest ranger job at the campground, because this little goat-looking thing did not relent until it got him out of his house and was insistent on heading down a very specific path.

Basil didn’t even have time to go get his car, he just followed the bouncing beast down the empty morning streets. It was so adamant that Basil had to keep up with its pace, because not once did it come to rest or even begin to pant unlike the following deer who was short of breath halfway from the Salt Trees Town into the expansive Tall Pines forest.

“Beast!” Basil wheezed, jumping over a log the beast ducked under. “I can’t r- run as long as you, s-slow down!”

It did not slow down. Basil did however, convinced he’d just collapsed if he continued on and finally stopped against a tree to take in air and just _rest_ for a few seconds. He clutched at his chest, willing to settle his heartbeat down.

_I’ll be fine_ , Basil thought. After all he _is_ a forest ranger, and if he had any skills to his name, survival and navigation were two of them. He smacked his lips together after a while and cringed, pulling a face as he miserably regretted not bringing his tumbler of water along. Whatever. He’ll live.

Pushing himself off the tree, Basil walked down the same trail he last saw the small beast run off to, keeping a close eye on the distinguishable paw marks of claw and hoof sets. He walked the trail for about four minutes when the trees opened up to a dilapidated but maintained radio station _and_ tower, next to a still pond with bouncing red dragonflies. Near the edge was the small beast, intently looking at the insects.

“Hey!” Basil shouted.

The beast immediately looked up, wagged its fish tail, and bounced his own way over to the deer. He hopped up and down, pawing at what he could reach of his legs, and Basil sighed. “Okay, okay. Calm down, Beast.” He patted the critter’s head, seemingly satisfying his excitement. “Why are we here?”

The beast perked up and made something similar to a bark. It jumped off the deer and shot back to the direction of the pond and tower, but stopped at the door of said radio station instead. He turned around, sat there, and looked straight at him with an almost pleading look.

As much as it could manage, anyways. Its eyes were covered by a fringe of messy fur, so it was hard to spot his eyes no matter how stark and bright they’re under. “D- Do you want to go in there?” Basil was of course, hesitant, to enter a place that was potentially restricted or not too abandoned.

Then again— The little beast was _begging_ him at this point if he dragged him all the way out here, and it was particularly good at remaining hidden; only choosing to be seen when it wanted to; so it _couldn’t_ want to go in there if people were inside, right? Perhaps he’s too soft if he’s pushing down his hesitation, but whatever the case, he gives in and walks the way up to the sizeable station.

Upon closer inspection, Its dilapidated look made it all the more eerie. Not in a way that made it scary, but ominous that such a structure stood alone in the woods with nothing else but a pond nearby. It definitely gave it the sense of an abandoned building that they just never got around to demolishing, he guessed, especially since there were no signs put up anywhere to keep out. 

Did he sure have a surprise when he opened the door to reveal that the inside was incredibly well taken care of and _everything_ was running as normal. There were a number of nice lamps, both ceiling and floor lamps, clean and furnished, a liveable space altogether. While he was more confused than shocked, the beast skipped in like it lived there.

The steps of his claws and hoofs muffled against carpeted floors snapped him out of it at least. Basil shook his head, stepped in, and carefully closed the door behind him. So this station was in use, after all, and he _definitely_ shouldn’t be sneaking into what’s private property. “I— Thanks for showing me your.. discovery? But I think we should go,” Basil looked over his shoulder, seeing if the door knob was to turn at any point. “At least _I_ should. I don’t have superpowers to just make myself go invisible in the eyes of potential danger, so—“

The beast whined and jumped back forward to the door. It chomped down on his deer companion’s sweatpants, pulling him along further into the room with unsurprising strength. It was gentle however, making sure it didn’t make Basil fall or rip part of the pant legs, yet the latter did not appreciate it any more than any less.

He even swatted at the oblivious creature who only let go of him once he was dragged in front of the station's radio system. There was an office chair nearby that the beast hopped on, looking proud, but more seeking of his new companion’s attention as it made more bark-like noises and flapped its tail against the seat. Basil wasn’t at all impressed, glaring at the happy-go-lucky beast while he readjusted the leg of his sweatpant and patted down the thing’s damn saliva.

“Let’s not do that next time, shall we?” He muttered, looking away to focus on the panels instead. What did this thing want him to see? “It’s just a plain radio station, beast,” He said after a little bit more inspection, by which it means glancing around and poking at things a little bit. “What am I supposed to be looking at here?”

The noise the creature made almost made it sound exasperated, but didn’t seem to hold it against him as it hopped to the panels and inspected the buttons— and frowned at them for a little while. It was a little funny to see, if Basil was to admit, which entirely made him forget where he was and that he wanted to go in case trouble was afoot.

Regardless. The tiny beast eventually figured out what it was doing and pressed on a few buttons— a pre-recorded storytelling of sorts flared to life and the screen in front of them switched from its standby screen to a logo with the name _The Horror Unearth._

Everything clicked in for Basil at that moment. His half lidded eyes shot open, surprise sinking in with a mixture of both panic and excitement at the same time. This is his favorite radio show run by one whole person with a peculiar voice, that he admittedly quite liked too much, and all of these factors swirled together in this concoction stirred his mostly nonplussed face into something else. “Oh god.” His voice warbled, turning from away from the screen. “Questionable location, b- but… This is Mr. Showtime’s show.” He stared straight at the thing’s face. “You took me _here_ because I rambled to you about it?”

The beast confirmed with yet another barking noise. It hopped up and down once more, excited to have shown the deer something so up close of the previously mentioned interest. Basil _should absolutely not_ be here _at all_ and yet he’s locked in place.

So much so that somebody’s snuck up behind him and the only reason he noticed this was because of none other than the same little creature, who started getting ever more eager once the mysterious figure approached, reached out their claws, and caught the happy-go-lucky animal in their arms.

“Rascal!” The figure said in an oddly familiar voice. “You silly thing, you! Where were you?” The voice sounded like it spoke too close to a microphone, or through a megaphone, in that same quality you’d hear it coming from an old dinky radio and just as loud. The other was the equivalent of speaking in all caps, which made it even more familiar— as that’s the same exact voice from the radio. That’s _Mr. Showtime._

“Oh, fuck.” Basil whispered to himself but it obviously didn’t go unheard. _Of course it didn’t,_ he thought, as he watched Mr. Showtime’s ears twitch and then flick on the lights.

Mr. Showtime has never shown his face to the public and he was certainly a dapper lad. He was a tall fox just an inch taller than Basil, spiffed up in a nice turtleneck similar to his own. He watched his tail flick behind him, setting the creature— Rascal as he came to find out— back on the office chair where he receives pats still.

“I see you’ve brought a visitor, Rascal!” The fox grins, wide, with sharp shiny teeth. “I’m sorry if Rascal frightened you, or dragged you out here, dear visitor.”

“ _I can_ _tell._ ” Basil shoots a look at Rascal. “He was extremely adamant to take me here.” He may be nervous but he wasn’t gonna show that to Mr. Showtime. Nope. Not at all. “He didn’t scare me though,”

“Oh?”

“It’s hard to be scared of something I don’t believe in.”

Mr. Showtime looked confused and bemused. “You don’t— what?”

“Nothing! Don’t mind that. I should be going now— Uh, toodles!” He waved, trying to make a quick exit but of course he wasn’t allowed that by Rascal who jumped on his shoulders and whined. “Not this again,” He flicked his tail, annoyed.

“He likes you!” Mr. Showtime says, quite easily prying Rascal off him to cradle him. “Isn’t that adorable? I think you earned his immediate trust by not being scared of him, actually.”

“Really now?”

“Positive! He brought the show to you, my dear fellow!” The fox bowed, Rascal still in arms who did not appreciate that and jumped down to the floor. “Fret not! I’m not at all bothered by that. A bit of a reckless decision on Rascal’s part, but I do trust his judgement.”

“I- Hold on a second,” Realizing something, a bit too late, Basil clapped his hands together, breathing in. “You mean to tell me that Salt Trees’s _infamous cryptid_ is your _pet?_ That little goat thing?”

“He’s achieved that status?” Mr. Showtime rose and placed his hands on his hips, giving a whistle. “That’s impressive! I didn’t think he’d go for that.”

“Well, he definitely did. Made a home for himself at the campgrounds I work at.”

“He sure does love that place! Rascal,” He turns to his pet, his smile seemingly never fading. “Why’d you bring this gentleman here, by the way?” And Rascal had to only yip a few times before Mr. Showtime blushed a little, seeming more joyous than he already is. “A fan of my show? Why! You should’ve something sooner, Rascal.”

He reached out his arm and wrapped it around Basil, pulling into a half-hug. He tried to keep his balance as the fox jerked him around with his own movements. “I presume you’ve got a few questions for me? An autograph, perhaps?”

Basil’s not sure how he didn’t notice until now that the fox had eyes looking like hypnotic swirls, though his did not move in said hypnotic actions and resembled more the standby screen colors.

The fox was dedicated to his craft, he’ll happily give him that, which made Basil admire Mr. Showtime even more but he tried not to his nervous eagerness tilt. Maybe that’s why he was seeing the little cryptid goat thing, maybe that’s why Mr. Showtime himself looked like a the ringmaster at the circus. It could be an illusion! Impressive magic trick.

But, he had to ask. “Yes, yes to all of that— If I’m able to ask this one, though, how did you come around to a cryptid pet?”

He brimmed with the question, looking as if he’d never been asked that before. “Oh, that’s easy!” Mr. Showtime let go of Basil, jumping back to stand in front of the radio equipment with his white fur glowing in the soft hues of the screens and the nearby lamp. Quite mesmerizing how it glowed even if just a little bit.

His attention was brought back to the screens then, when Mr. Showtime flicked a switch and the standby screen switched to a black and white picture. It looked like it was taken from an old camera from the 2000’s, but in black and white, and the contents of the picture looked like nothing he’s seen before. It looked like a city, but everything about it seemed off. His ears flicked a few times, thinking, before he shrugs.

“This, my fellow enthusiast, is mine and Rascal’s homeworld. I just picked him up from the streets when I was younger! Took me a whole lot of begging to get my parents to let me keep ‘im.”

The image on the screen flipped to what Basil was assumed was a family photo. There were two tall odd figures that went past the screen’s length, shrouding their face in mystery, but a smaller figure between the tall ones held a little puppy-like creature in their arms. “They eventually let me keep him! So he became part of the family, and hey even my parents warmed up to him.”

Another image was shown. This time it was a clearer portrait of Mr. Showtime and Rascal, though not in his little puppy goat form and instead in the hulking water beast he encountered yesterday night.

“That’s basically the story! Nothing too grand or bonkers, I didn’t make a summoning circle and conjure up a pet; though he’s certainly not a common one.”

“That’s lovely, really!” The deer hummed with chin in his paws. “And you are?”

“That’s a trickier question! I myself don’t know what exactly am I. I’m not from this dimension but I am at the same time which is unnecessarily convoluted, I know, and neither am I really a fox. I’ve just chosen the form as it suited me best, and with my otherworldly experiences, I decided to run a not-so-normal radio show!”

“Riveting, truly!” The deer hopes he’s not coming off as sarcastic at all, he’s truly amazed although confused. So with that, “Just one thing,” He took the hand from his chin and motioned to the monitors. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? You’re a story maker, are you not? So how am I to know I’m not being fooled.”

Mr. Showtime looked taken aback with his weird eyes hypnotic eyes and brows hidden behind his hairline. The smile dropped for just a second before he burst into loud laughter, “I like your spunk! What’s your name?”

“B- Basil?”

“You’re a feisty one, Basil! I admire that about you.” He uses a claw to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, his laughter reduced to a small giggle. “Tell ya’ what. How about I prove to you I’m _actually_ not from this place? And that Rascal isn’t just some conjured up magic trick?”

Was that a good idea? Basil may be biased, but his brain told him that yes. Why not? He’d get to properly meet Mr. Showtime too. “Alright,” He said, too obviously casual. “I don’t see why that’d be so bad. I can’t drop by too often though, got work.”

“Excellent!” He exclaimed and walked around the deer, taking a hold of his shoulders in a gentle squeeze. “We’ll find a way around that! You can even star as a second reader in my show. It’d be great to have someone else onboard that doesn’t _chew the equipment._ ”

The fox said with a pointed glare at his pet, who slowly spat out the remains of some headphones and did not make eye contact.

“That’s the second one in a week, Rascal. Anyways,” Mr. Showtime smiles at his new acquaintance. “When are you free next time, spunky man?”

Basil rolled his eyes at that, but brushed it off. “I’ll be free tomorrow too, I work from Mondays to Thursdays.”

“Perfect! Do we have an arrangement then?”

“I think we do.”


End file.
